ya

The vile fingers of pain and loss caress my broken body, trailing a cold that burns and reminds me of my torment.
I scream questions at the merciless sky, the sun tainting everything red, like light filtering through a bloody window.
The dry knowledge of what was lost, of time and memories, feelings and emotions, loss and denial, sucks at the brightest parts of my soul leaving a diseased film.
My fevored mind projects my fears, rending thoughts, morals and compassion leaving behind a festering wound eager to spread its infection.
Demons with the faces of loved ones parade around, wielding degradation and insults like weapons.
Engulfed in a toxic cocoon, free to flee but unable to, my feet rooted by pain and longing, willing to bear any hell for the one touch, the one caress, the one caring word.
The pain of belonging outweighing the need of survival.